The Proposition
by HuskyLeaf
Summary: After a brief make-out encounter, Blaine makes Liv an offer.


She was no fan of Blaine DeBeers: he was smug, obnoxious, and all around. . . well, the person who made her what she was, this thing that now had a desire for brains and caused her the concern that maybe, just maybe, she'd go full-on Zombie Mode and maul one of the people closest to her.

But as of right now that seemed so distant, so far from the truth; everything was a mixture of rush and blur. Her fingers were combing through his hair, that rat bastard, as their lips were locked and swiftly pulling away to take a quick breath of air, and they'd get back to kissing, an orgasm of the mouth and. . . she didn't think such a scum bag like himself could be a good kisser. He looked like he knew how to use his hands and to touch in all the right places, but this was heaven; his hands sliding up her shirt, his rough hands running up her smooth back, and pushing her down on the slab as their bodies pressed against each other, him keeping his full weight off of her. He took his lips to her neck, tracing her collar-bone, and she put her hand on his forehead and pushed it up so their eyes could meet. She could still feel herself losing control, not just for human desire of penetration, but the desire of a dead-not-so-dead zombie that for some reason wanted to know what his flesh would taste like in her mouth, "I really don't think this is a good idea." Liv said casually, trying a little to move upward.

Blaine pushed her back down, cocking his head slightly to the side, "I think it's a _great_ idea. 'Sides, weren't you the one who threw yourself at me?"

Well, he wasn't wrong about that. Not exactly. "We all make mistakes."

"This one won't be," he ran his fingers through her hair and curled it between his fingers. He brought a lock of hair to his lips and kissed it, making a trail of kisses from there to her neck. She pulled away, having to shake her head to regain her mind.

"Yeah, well, I changed my mind."

He smirked in that snarky, sharky way of his that both enraged and aroused her, "Then why aren't you moving?"

She looked away, down at his chest, and blinked, then looked back at him, "It wouldn't hurt if you got up."

He chuckled with that grin in place and kissed her again. Blaine took his lips down to her neck and down between her breasts, which is when her spine tingled and her muscles tightened. It wouldn't hurt to have eaten a fucking brain of someone who knew how to kiss the ass of a human pig. But there were no brains to be had today. She wondered briefly what a zombie's brain tasted like; what his would taste like, to be exact. . . .

It was then when his teeth took hold of her blouse that it occurred to her like a punch in the stomach: he was here for a reason. She suspected it at first but then she lost concentration after he waltzed in here with his skin-tight jeans and that cocky voice of his and aggravating, seductive face of his. Liv pulled out from under him and he scoffed.

"Tell me what you're doing here." she said firmly.

"What, can't a guy just stop by to say _'hey'_?" he cupped her ear and brushed back some air behind it. "Let's get back to some kinky shit."

She could probably tear open his skull like a nut and eat his brain to find out what he really wanted but that seemed a bit extreme. Plausible, but extreme. And she didn't need Ravi or Clive to walk in at that moment and see her murdering a man who they thought to be harmless. She'd be seen as barbaric by Ravi; a murderer by the other.

Life had its way of letting the awkward moments roll it when you least wanted them to.

"Not gonna happen, Blaine," Liv pulled up completely and sat on her rear. He sighed, lowering his head in a form of defeat, but when he looked back up at her he had an expression almost similar to that of pain. "You don't wanna tell me why you're here? How about I make you."

"Whoa whoa, no need to get testy, Miss Horny," he said with one eyebrow arched. Fuck, she hated that smirk. "I only wanted to stop by and. . . ask a few things."

"Oh, like how to get in my pants?" she remarked.

"Again," he said softly with his face close to hers, "I don't remember throwing myself on you, sugar baby."

Ravi would be here any minute. She didn't want him to come in and see them like this, especially with the top of her clothing pulled down. That would be awkward and just plain. . . well, awkward. And misunderstood. She hated him. Didn't she? Yeah, he was her enemy after all. He was a liar, a scum-bag, a druggie, a lousy rat shit-

"- And that's why I want you to help."

It took her a moment to come the realization she'd zoned out for, what, a couple minutes. Liv blinked, shaking the cloudy haze from her mind, "What?"

He laughed under his breath, "Is that a quirk of yours, going out while someone's talking? If so, it's kinda cute." Blaine cleared his throat, "What I said was, I'd like for you to join me."

"Join you with what?"

"You know," he said as if she were a know-it-all, "A little thing I like to call the Brain Ring."

She waited a moment, herself smirking, "Seriously. Just tell me what the hell you're trying to say."

"I want you to confiscate your brains from here-" he signaled the morgue, "-and bring 'em to my little place. We can sell 'em for a price; you'll get a percentage, of course. In two different ways, if you want."

He'd reached out for face as he spoke the last sentence, which she drew away from.

"You want me to be your drug mule." she said flatly. It was amusing enough she could've laughed.

"You'll get paid." he repeated. "We can work together. Make money. You can buy some pretty things for yourself. . . ."

He touched her hair and gave a sniff, "And maybe lighten up your hair a bit."

Liv jerked it away from him, "So you want me to put my job in jeopardy to help you in your little scheme, all the while taking advantage of dead people."

Bluntly, "They're _dead_. I don't think they'll be complaining any time soon."

For a moment she could see it and the allure: sneaking out the brain and they could make some dough. It really wasn't hurting anyone. She didn't need that many brains anyway; she couldn't stand eating a full one. It'd be better to give the rest away rather than let it go to waste. The dead people wouldn't want their matter wasted, would they? Especially not if they were previously haters of wasting perfectly good items.

Liv shook her head hard enough to rattle her own mass of brain, "No."

"No what?"

"What do you mean 'what'? No, I won't help you do something so stupid and selfish."

"Oh please. You work at a morgue with a brain-buffet all around you, yet you say I'm selfish?" Blaine licked his bottom lip. "You know maybe this was meant to happen. You work here, gimme what I want. It's like fate."

Liv grinned, "Nice try. But no." A part of her _was_ hoping he'd originally shown up for other reasons, such as a love-making session. She hated these love/hate things.

Blaine waited a minute before putting a hand on her shoulder and softly nudging her close, "C'mon. It'll be fun. We can even make it. . ._ interesting _if you want."

She looked him up and down; tracing his face and down at his neck. She contemplated. Not the brain dealing part, though it seemed tempting to know what it felt like to be beside him selling this crap that tasted like crap. . . . "I gotta get back to work."

"Do you, or is that some kinda lame excuse to get rid of me?" his lips were closer to hers now. Liv considered touching them with her fingers and feeling the tender curves.

"No." she shook her head once. It was probably a_ no _that should have stayed in her head, for she was fighting these primal urges; the two different devils in her mind.

"C'mon. . . who's it gonna hurt? Hmm?"

"You if you don't get away from me."

Blaine chuckled, "You're kinda sexy when you get feisty."

Knowing there really was only one thing left to do, pretty much just to make the voices shut up and stop her from doing something she'd have to shower nine times later for, Liv shoved him back and caused him to lose his footing, falling down to his rear. It took a moment for him to regain his thoughts as the surprise movement caught him off-guard. He laughed and got back up, adjusting his jacket around his chest. "You know that's not a very good way to start off a relationship."

"I don't want one with you," she found herself saying. It was the truth. Sort of. Sort of? Yeah. Sort've. "Get outta here, Blaine."

"Are you sure? One more chance." he said and spread his hands out, "Brain dealing? We could call it _Blaine and Liv's Brain Dealing Extrava_-"

She pointed to the exit, never taking her eyes off him, "Get outta here."

He waited to see if she'd change her mind, or hell, if she'd go at him again for full-on porn this time. After seeing it was going nowhere, Blaine exhaled, "Very well. But don't come crying to me when things don't work out with Ravi."

As he walked off, she shouted after him, "What the hell was that? We're not dating!" Liv stopped herself from continuing and shook her head. She sighed and brushed hair from her eyes. She remembered how his fingers felt on her skin and touching her hair, which had caused a rush of adrenaline and endorphins through her body like a drug.

She looked back to where he'd exited, having that faint glimmer of hope that maybe he'd stayed, and found that she was alone again. Well, not counting the dead guy on the slab two tables down. Poor bastard was probably embarrassed after what he'd seen in here today with her practically throwing herself at him and pulling off her clothes. Poor, poor bastard.

Poor, poor Liv.

She let out one final sigh, picked up the saw from the table beside her, and resumed what she'd begun to do before he arrived.

She put it to the flesh of the corpse and cut through the skull to have her nice, bland meal for the evening.


End file.
